When I Get There, I'll Let You Know

I’ve always known that change was something I feared. Something that I would shy away from given the opportunity. But, I never knew why. See, when forced into it, I adapted easily, and was relatively well-adjusted. But, it has never been something I chose to do. Big changes, little changes, it mattered not; they plagued me with trepidation. Just this constant, nagging sense of foreboding that I couldn’t seem to shake. Almost as if each one of those little changes somehow created this gigantic domino effect that tumbled into much larger, big changes- all crashing, pushing, collapsing on one another finally culminating into this massive situation of change that I wasn’t sure I could deal with. Suffice to say, I raged against that at all costs.


A lot of things have changed in the last three years. Some, for the better, some for the sake of learning, and some for the sake of merely knowing it is something which can be survived. I’ve changed too. There are times when I find myself reflecting back on everything; on the significant amount of transformations that have happened to myself. To my body. To my heart. To my mind. And…I don’t know what to do with it all. In some aspects, I feel I have grown more than I ever could’ve comprehended three, or even just a year ago. Yet, in some ways- I feel stuck. As if I’m at the edge of this great precipice in my life, and I know it’s time to jump, to make that leap, but I don’t. Because I can’t find the courage. The not knowing leaves me paralyzed with fear.

I’ve often heard that people who have to move back in with their parents for whatever reasons, face a lot of struggles. It’s hard to go back. To stay there. College students say how excited they were to return home for break, but then realize they are home-sick, yet not for the home in which they grew up. And I really think that’s what terrifies me the most. That it’s not just leaving, it’s losing everything that I have. And this unrelenting fear that I won’t get it elsewhere. I don’t ever want to feel like this isn’t the one place I belong, because I sometimes get scared of not belonging anywhere else. And I know that sounds like some weird circle of contradictions.

I always said that I didn’t want to cease to jump just because I might fall. Or just because it might not work out. I’d like to think I’m stronger than that. I shouldn’t need someone to force me to grow up. I shouldn’t need to be pushed. I wonder if sometimes people can see the unsteadiness in my eyes. Does it reflect in my actions? I guess sometimes, I just feel…really out of control. And I have these moments, where I see myself making a choice I shouldn’t make, allowing my Ego and Super-Ego, the silly feigns, to turn a blind eye whilst my Id runs amuck throughout my life. I just feel exhausted all the time. Not necessarily physically, but emotionally and mentally. And somewhere this turned into a journal entry, but I’m just going to go with it. I just had to get it out there.

It’s not the act of change that’s scary. It’s the lingering possibilities that follow that are truly terrifying. The “what if’s” the “maybe’s”. The “if I had only’s” that keep you awake at night. Or at least…it keeps me awake. But, perhaps that’s the issue.